


Disappointing the Kids

by Westgate (Harkpad)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Barton Family, Consensual Sex, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), barton family feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harkpad/pseuds/Westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parents disappoint their kids - it's a common problem. Clint is determined to make it up to them, but first he has to make his way back home without a tail, and then he has to convince Cooper and Lila that he's home and ready to be there for them again. Natasha and Laura help. Minor Captain America: Civil War spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. finding his way home

It took Clint eight months to get home to his family after the Raft and a brief layover in Wakanda.

Eight months, in the life of a child, is a long time.

Before he went home, he had to deal with a few things, though. First of all, being a wanted man. No one in the area he lived actually questioned whether he was Hawkeye or not, even after Ultron and Loki he was just Clint Morelli, that guy who looks a lot like one of the Avengers. One neighbor had asked him once, said ‘You like archery and your name’s Clint,’ but he just shrugged and said, ‘It’s a small world. Bound to be two people with the same first name and a love of archery somewhere; besides, that guy’s form is for shit,’ and they laughed and bought it. Why wouldn’t they? To the community he was Clint Morelli, Cooper and Lila’s dad, and a buyer for a large tile manufacturing company who had to travel a lot. It wasn’t unusual.

But Clint _Barton_ was a wanted man, and he couldn’t lead the authorities to his farm or unsuspecting surrounding community, so he had to take care of the person who really wanted him. That would be General Ross. God, Clint hated him. Clint was part of SHIELD when Ross tried to take down The Hulk. Ross was a blind, ego-driven asshole as far as Clint was concerned. Then, thanks to Tony fucking Stark, Ross became the blind, ego-driven asshole who knew Clint had a family, and that wouldn’t stand.

When everyone ended up back in Wakanda, Clint rested for a few days, asked T’Challa for permission to cross his borders into Tanzania, where he had a contact from before SHIELD, and he did the guy a couple favors over the next few weeks in return for three sets of faked papers that would hold up even into the US.  He chose an identity and began his search for Nat.

It took three months. In the meantime he made one phone call to Laura, at her office number, and held his breath as she answered.

“Laura,” he said, as gently as he could.

He heard her suck a sharp breath in. “Hey.”

Her voice – god, her voice after an op always made him lose his mind for a second, and this had been a hell of an op. He closed his eyes and could barely choke out, “I’m safe.”

“Good. Good,” she repeated, as if convincing herself. He heard her swallow, and he wasn’t sure he was going to get through this one without tears.

“I can’t come home,” he said, and the tears threatened.

“Even though your identity isn’t Barton here?” she asked, and her voice broke on the last word.

“Someone told the authorities I have a family,” he replied, and he stopped to take a deep breath. “I will come home, but I have to take care of a few things to make sure no one traces me, first.”

Laura didn’t answer. He didn’t hear the phone click, though, so he went on. “I have to make sure it’s safe. You know I can’t come until it’s safe. I’m looking for Nat and she’ll help me, and then I’ll come.” The silence stretched. He gritted his teeth and asked, “How are the kids?” He was afraid she’d be too angry at all of this to answer, but she waited a beat and said, “Still mad at you.”

He bit his lip and closed his eyes, forced the tears back down his throat. “What about you?” he whispered.

There was no hesitation. “I’m angry, too. But I need you to come home.”

“Give me some time, and I will. I promise, I will.”

He was stupid for making such a promise, but he couldn’t help it. She had sacrificed so much for this move of his, had understood and stood by his side as he told the kids he had to go back to work for a little while. Cooper had stormed out the room without saying anything and Lila had crossed her arms across her chest and yelled, “You said you were staying! We were going to go skiing!” but Laura stood by his side anyway. She’d stood wordless and frowning, but she’d hugged him tight before he left and whispered, “Please come back to us.”

So he promised her now, and she was smart enough and had been married to Clint Barton for long enough to know it was a hollow promise, but straight from his heart.

“Okay,” she said over the phone. “I’m so glad you and Nat are safe. Stay that way.”

That was a promise he really knew better than to make. “I’ll try,” he answered. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Clint. Stay strong.”

“For you,” he whispered, and this time the tears leaked free and he felt them run down his cheeks as the line clicked and she was gone. He stayed still, holding the silent phone to his ear for another minute, and then he went looking for Nat.

“Three months, Nat,” he said as they shared a bottle of wine on the patio of a restaurant in Trapani, Italy. “Did it have to take three months?”

She watched him over the rim of her glass and smiled. “I had to make sure.”

“I know. But usually you can tell in one month, and you know damned well I have a place to be,” he chided, but he wasn’t really angry. She needed to make sure.

“I thought maybe you’d lost your touch in the last couple years. You haven’t had as much practice in losing a tail and staying low, you know.” She poured herself another glass of wine and stared out at the ocean, the sun just starting to set in the distance. “Now what?”

He waited and finished his own glass and refilled it before he answered. He let the salty air brush over his skin, let the blue of the sky and the froth on the waves fill his vision before he broke the silence with their next bad move. “We need to find out where Betty Ross is.”

Natasha didn’t look at him, which told him she didn’t like what she’d heard.

“If I’m going to threaten Ross within an inch of his life, I need collateral,” Clint said, raising his voice.

She looked at him then. “You would kill Betty?”

The implied, ‘the woman Bruce loved first’ was loud and clear.

“Bruce isn’t around to pummel me for the threat, and you know I wouldn’t kill her, but Ross doesn’t know that. She’s collateral.”

“They’re estranged.”

“She’s his daughter. That’s enough.”

“Bruce may well kill you for the thought of it, you know,” she said, swirling the wine in her glass.

“I’m hoping you’ll help me explain if we need to,” he replied. He wondered if that was too much to ask. Bruce had left, and Natasha was clearly still upset by his departure.

She watched a small boy playing on the beach for a moment before turning back to Clint. “So you’re going to threaten Ross’s daughter to keep him off of you?”

“When you say it like that. . .” he said. Maybe he should just leave Ross alone. Maybe the thought of him knowing that whoever finds Clint Barton would find enough collateral to convince a superhero to end the world to save them was a bad idea. “Should I just go home?”

“You can’t just go home,” Nat replied, and she looked back at him sharply. “We have to threaten him somehow, convince him it’s not in his best interest to pursue you in any way. We just might want to be sure of our methods first.”

They spent two months digging around on Ross. They traced his connections to Blonsky and the path of his career after the disaster in Harlem. They traced Betty Ross and dug up enough information about her and her father to blackmail him to hell and back. When they were done, they switched identities, flew back to the States, and hit up several of their own stashes of weapons and supplies before stealing a car and driving to Fairfax, Virginia, home of some of the most elite government employees in the US.

Once they were in Fairfax, it took three hours to reach Ross, and his security group would work for months afterward to figure out how the two-man team made it to Ross’s office and held him at gunpoint for two minutes and fifteen seconds before disappearing into the night with no trace at all.

Natasha drove them away from Fairfax, in no particular direction at all for six hours after she and Clint loomed over Ross with guns in his face and shared all his secrets with him, and Clint spent the whole time with his head against the passenger side window, staring out to the side of the road in silence. For the first two hours his hands were white knuckled around the bow in his lap, for the second two hours he unclenched the weapon and tucked his hands under his arms in a tight hug, and two hours after that, he pulled his feet up on the seat and wrapped his arms around his knees. Finally, he spoke.

“Nat,” he started, and his voice cracked. He couldn’t help it. He was shaking again and was certain he’d gone insane. “What did we just do?”

“We just threatened the Secretary of State for the United States and he swore he wouldn’t track us. We made sure he knew how easy it would be to get to Betty, to spill his secrets, to burn his fucking house to the ground if we even smelled a search team or ambush within three hundred miles of either of us. That’s what we did, although it was six hours ago, so we didn’t really ‘just’ do it at all,” she replied, and she reached over and rubbed his arm. “Relax. We’re going to Jacksonville for a while.”

He knew they couldn’t just head back to the farm. They had to make sure Ross kept his word, had to make sure their identities were safe. Nat had built a new one from scratch and was biding her time before she could make her way back to Maria, who was waiting patiently in New York. Jacksonville first, though.

It was home to a military base and a lot of resources Ross could use if he wanted to. It was as good a place as any to test Ross’s faithfulness, and Natasha loved the south beaches there. After a couple of switches driving, and ten hours later, they found a ratty hotel room on Beach Boulevard and Clint offered to take first watch while Natasha slept. She’d done most of the driving, so she let him.

He broke down and bought a pack of cigarettes at the gas station on one of his rounds and smoked his way through circling the hotel and standing on the cracked concrete balcony in front of their room. Nat slapped him when she came out from showering four hours later.

He flipped her off and took his own shower. He was homesick.

They spent a month in Jacksonville, in various parts of the city, including one stint right off of the military base. No one came looking for them. They decided another good spot to try would be New Orleans, so they packed up again and drove west. After two weeks of beignets in the morning and gumbo at night, they still didn’t have a tail.

Clint asked if they could please go home.

His desperation and nightmares were getting worse by the day. He dreamed of Cooper and Lila slamming doors in his face, of Nathaniel asking ‘Who are you?” when Clint would approach, of Laura walking hand-in-hand down the street with some tall, green-eyed man with dark hair slicked back and a fancy suit.

“Not yet,” Nat said gently.

He just nodded and suggested Denver, next.

Three more months and no sign of a tail, Clint finally looked at Natasha over a pint of pale ale in Madison, Wisconsin and said, “I’m going home.”

“Me, too,” she answered, and they spent the evening memorizing codes and check-in times for getting hold of each other for the next couple of months. They agreed that if things stayed quiet, she and Maria could come out to the farm for Christmas this year. He held onto her hug a little longer than usual when they parted ways at the nearby train station the next morning.


	2. Remember to breathe

Clint didn’t want to be the asshole dad who just shows up on the porch after eight months, so he got off of the train one town early, got a hotel room, and called Laura. She told him to come home right now, but he needed to prepare. He told her he’d be home tomorrow and proceeded to find the nearest department store and find a few toys and books for the kids, a bouquet of flowers for Laura, and a nicer outfit to wear home than the t-shirts he’d been wearing for the last eight months.

He showered, tried to sleep, failed, and showered again, and then finally took the bus as close as he could get to their property and started to walk. When the yellow gables of the house came into view, late in the morning, Clint stopped, pulled his bag closer to his chest, and tried to breathe. He breathed through his mouth and listened to the quiet chirping of the birds in the nearby trees and when he heard the high-pitched cry of a toddler, he moved.

He crossed the yard in long strides, he dropped his bag as he climbed the porch steps, and he pushed open the screen door and stepped inside. Nate, who was standing in the middle of the living room floor, red-faced and teary, looked up at Clint and dropped the stuffed wolf he was holding. He held up his arms and yelled, “Dada! Dada!” and Clint reached down and scooped him up. He smelled like syrup and finger paint and he leaned into Clint’s neck and wrapped his arms around him like a vice. Clint felt tears streaming down his own face and buried his cheeks in Nate’s purple sweatshirt to dry them.

“Hey Nate, little Nate, hey,” he whispered, and then he looked up. Laura was standing in the kitchen with a green dishtowel in her hands and tears on her cheeks, and she watched as Clint spun Nate around and hugged him for what seemed like eternity. Clint felt a chunk of the tension he’d been carrying around for the last eight months break off of him, and he crossed to Laura and pulled her into a three-way hug with Nate. He ran his free hand down her hair and tried to get his breathing under control.

“Cooper and Lila are at school,” Laura said into Clint’s shirt.

“Okay,” Clint replied, and he pulled back to press a kiss to her lips. He lost himself for a moment as she leaned into him and ran her hand down his back as they kissed. “God, I missed you. I’m sorry,” he said, and his voice broke.

“I know,” she answered, and she pulled away. “Spend some time with Nate while I go shower.” She moved to the stairs but stood still for a moment, watching Clint dance Nate around the room a little. A smile played across her face and she turned and said without looking at him, as she climbed the stairs, “Missed you so much, Clint.”

He didn’t answer, but he watched her disappear at the top of the stairs and he wished he could follow her into the shower and wash her down reverently and feel her skin under his arms. Later, he promised himself. For now, he sat on the floor with Nate and built a tower of multicolor blocks, and when it fell, Nate exclaimed, “It fell down!” and his Muppet-like voice was filled with delight.

Clint’s jaw dropped and he stared at his son. Nate was two and a half, and when Clint left eight months ago he could say a few words, but not a sentence. Frustration filled Clint’s chest as he thought about all the milestones he missed. He’d missed Nate’s second birthday and Laura’s forty-eighth.  It was almost time for Lila’s twelfth; he’d missed Cooper’s start to high school, and baseball season over the spring and summer. Nate spitting out a complete sentence just pounded it all home.

He played blocks with Nate for almost an hour, laughing at Nate’s new vocabulary and animated interaction with Clint, and when they both started to tire of building, Clint threw him up on his shoulders and told Laura they’d be back in a bit. He took Nate outside to walk the property, and Clint felt anxious twist in his gut as they stepped outside and headed down the path to the back field. He caught himself scanning the sky for planes and listening hard for any unnatural sounds in the woods. As Nate pointed out birds and squirrels, Clint tried to relax his shoulders and his paranoia about someone finding the farm.

About twenty minutes into their walk, exhaustion made Clint bring him down from his shoulders, and he felt his chest fill with adoration as Nate fell asleep in Clint’s arms before they made it back to the house. Nate was going to be okay. He might have to stand by and watch while Clint tried to piece back together his relationship with Cooper and Lila, but he’d be okay. Blocks and books and walks around the farm would keep him close.

Clint put Nate in his toddler bed shaped like a race car and pulled the railing up before he went downstairs to join Laura at the kitchen table for a late lunch. He fixed himself a sandwich and poured a glass of sun tea from the glass pitcher that always sat on the table when it wasn’t on the porch, and he sat down across from Laura. They ate in silence for a bit, before Clint took a drink and said, “We’ve got the Morelli name working for us, and Nat and I took care of the direct threat. I’ll need to go out in a couple weeks and do some security checks, but Nat’s going to help and it’ll only be a few days.”

Laura’s eyes flashed with anger. “Why do you have to leave to do it?”

“Because we need to see what happens when we pop our heads out again. See if Ross keeps his word, make sure no one’s looking for us. If I do that from here you’ll all be in danger again. Three days, I promise.”

“Stop making promises you can’t keep, Clint,” Laura replied, and she left her half-eaten sandwich on the table and went out to the porch, letting the door slam on her way out.

Clint waited a beat to see if Nate woke from his nap at the sound, and then he finished his sandwich, put the plate in the sink, and carried Laura’s unfinished lunch out to the porch. She was sitting on the swing, so he slid the plate onto her lap and sat down next to her. He waited while she ate, just watching the birds in the nearby cupid-shaped birdbath and trying not to listen for cars or planes.

When she finished and set her plate on the nearby tree stump/end table, he reached over and took her hand in his. He closed his eyes as he caressed her fingers, felt the callouses from rakes, the lawnmower, the tiller for the garden, and imagined her working hard in the sun next to him, leaning against him as he grilled hamburgers and watched the kids wrestle or play catch in the front yard.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and she put her hand against his cheek and pressed, letting his stubble brush against her skin.

“You just can’t keep saying that,” she said, and her voice was thick and heavy with tears. “Saying that you promise you won’t leave, that you won’t get hurt, that the Avengers won’t take priority again someday, just – just don’t promise, okay?”

He just nodded. He didn’t know what to say, and her face was so anguished that he didn’t know what to do.

“I don’t want our kids learning that a promise works like that,” she added, and he felt like he’d been slapped.

He leaned back and pulled away from her. “I don’t know what to do here,” he managed, and a plane flew by overhead. As soon as he heard the engine noise, he startled, whipping his head up to check. It was just a small passenger plane. He blew a breath out and looked back at Laura, who was watching him carefully.

“Stay with us,” Laura replied, and she picked his hand back up. “I just don’t want you making promises you can’t keep any more. I want you here,” she added, forcefully, like she was trying to make sure he got it.

“Okay,” he said, and pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She let him tuck her head under his chin and he tried to get their bodies as close as he possibly could. They rocked on the porch swing for a long time, until Nate’s muffled, “Mama!” came through the screen door.

Laura nudged Clint. “You go get him. It’ll make him happy.”

Clint grinned and stood up. “Does he still like to rock a little after his nap?”

“Why don’t you bring him out here?” she said. “The fresh air will be good. Cooper and Lila should be home pretty soon.”

He swallowed the thread of fear those words brought and went to get Nate from his nap. His blond hair was messy and sticking up at all angles, and his eyes lit up when Clint leaned over the bed. “Dada!” he exclaimed, and held his arms out for Clint to scoop him up. As they descended the stairs, Nate dropped his head back onto Clint’s shoulder, still sleepy from his nap. They settled onto the porch swing and Nate dozed against Clint’s chest instead of waking entirely.

Clint wondered if he could just spend the rest of eternity here, in this moment. That would be a good moment.

The sound of a school bus startled Clint and Nate out of their reverie, and Laura reached over to take Nate from Clint’s arms. Nate protested, but Clint pressed a kiss to his head as he stood and said, “I’ll be right back. Gotta go get your brother and sister.”

His heart was racing as he felt the gravel of the driveway crunch under his boots. He shoved his hands in his pockets as Cooper and Lila climbed off the bus, unaware of Clint so far. They were laughing about something together, but Lila spotted Clint first and stopped suddenly, causing Cooper to shove her playfully out of the way before he saw Clint.

Clint would rather the looks that crossed their faces never exist in the universe.

Lila stood stock-still and her brown eyes darkened. Clint thought he saw joy flash across her face for a split-second, but was overtaken by a frown, and she crossed her arms over her chest. Clint stepped close and saw that she’d cut her long hair short, into a bob, and it made her look older, more mature.

Cooper glared and powered past Clint, saying nothing and storming into the house. Clint saw that he’d grown at least three inches since Clint had left, and he was eye level or a little taller than him now. He watched his retreating form and then turned back to Lila.

She was watching him carefully, like she was trying to decide if he was really here. “Are you back?” she asked, and Clint sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of her voice. It was like a breeze blowing across his face, breathy and thin.

“Yes,” he replied, and he took a step closer to her. He would be careful. He would be patient.

“For good?” she asked. “This time are you staying for good?”

He nodded.

“Promise?” she said, and he held her gaze with his like it was a lifeline.

“I can’t promise anymore,” he answered through clenched teeth. He wanted to promise. He wanted to assure her he would stay forever. But Laura was right. He couldn’t do that anymore, no matter what it did to his relationship with his kids.

Her face crumpled and tears slipped down her cheeks, and she shouldered past him. “I hate you,” she said, and she left him standing in the driveway trying to remember how to breathe.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did the thing. The thing where I say it's gonna be two chapters and then I make it three. Sorry. I'm in a mood and this is how it worked out. Also, thank you to EVERYONE who is reading this. Barton Family Love, gang. We gotta share the Barton Family Love. I appreciate you coming by.


	3. Staying Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating on the fic thanks to a scene that I decided I really wanted to write at the end. I hope you all enjoy. Thanks again for reading my little story.

He finally moved and headed inside to find Laura and Nate sitting at the kitchen table sharing some crackers and grapes, but there was no sign of Lila or Cooper. Clint sat down next to Laura and rested his head on her shoulder.

“Lila said she hates me,” he said, after a minute of watching Nate alternate between smashing crackers on the table and putting one in his mouth to eat. “Cooper didn’t say anything.” He can hear the exhaustion in his own voice, and suddenly his body feels leaden, like he’s carrying too much equipment around, even though he’d changed an hour ago into an old, faded purple t-shirt and his favorite jeans. Even his pockets were empty.

Laura reached around and rubbed his back gently and his breath stuttered because the caress felt like she was draping a warm blanket across his body. “I told them they have to talk to you, but that they could have some time, first,” she said. Her voice was soft and low.

He handed Nate a grape and then closed his eyes. “I don’t know what to tell them,” he finally said. “I don’t have any answers for them.” He paused. “I hated my dad.”

And there it is. That’s the reason it feels like Lila stuck a dagger in his chest and twisted. He remembers standing at the edge of a small farm pond on a cloudy day in Iowa and throwing rocks in as hard as he could while tears streamed down his face. Barney stood next to him, silent, sometimes handing Clint a rock to throw. He’d thrown rock after rock as he felt bruises blooming on his cheek and chest and back, and had whispered the words “I hate him” over and over until he was hoarse. He’d been eight at the time.

“Clint,” Laura whispered, and she pulled his chin into her hand and he forced his eyes open to see her brown eyes deep with worry. “She doesn’t hate you. Neither of them do. They’re angry. They’re confused, but you can talk to them. Explain again why you left and explain again why you can’t promise to stay. She’s twelve. She won’t want to hear it, but she will, eventually, understand. So will Cooper.”

“I’m tired,” he said, and handed another grape to Nate, who giggled and threw it at Clint. Laura reprimanded him and Clint shoved himself back from the table and stood up.

“You should nap,” Laura replied. “You’re probably hitting bottom after everything.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks.”

She patted his arm and turned back to Nate to explain why throwing grapes at Daddy is Not Acceptable.

He climbed the stairs slowly and made his way to his bedroom, where he stripped out of the jeans and t-shirt and climbed into his bed wearing just his boxer shorts. The sheets were clean and smelled like lavender, and the room was dim in the late afternoon light. Clint closed his eyes and tried to think of last spring, just before he’d left, and how Lila would sprawl on top of him as he lay on the couch and they’d read together or talk about mundane things like how she was going to replace her bike tires with thicker ones because the roads around the farm would be easier to handle with better traction. He fell asleep to the thought of throwing a baseball with Cooper around after dinner.

Laura let him sleep, and when he woke hours later it was dark, night, and Laura was stretched out next to him in her red sleep shorts and cami, and her arm tucked around Clint’s waist. He thought about waking her, but his body sagged again and he closed his eyes to sleep some more. When he woke, it was almost eleven in the morning the next day, and the kids were at school.

He showered, ate a little brunch, and took Nate for another walk. The previous afternoon repeated itself, except that Clint decided to let Cooper and Lila get off the bus and settle from school without him around. While he waited for them to breathe a little after school, he went to the barn to collect his bow.

There were times in his life when Clint didn’t know what to do. He’d known desperate moments, and he’d wrenched them further into desperation sometimes, by trying too hard to get out of them or by overthinking them and binding himself in different and just as worse ways. He’d done a number on himself after he left the circus desperate and hungry, and he’d done another number on himself a few years after he and Phil teamed up at SHIELD.

Both situations had ended with Clint in a better place, at SHIELD initially and with Natasha as a partner a few years later. Now, Lila’s words rang in his ears and Cooper’s face glared in his memory, and Clint felt desperation begin to creep in again.

He went to the barn and found his practice bow. He set up six fresh targets on the small range he had built behind the barn for the family. In a moment of desperation he pulled Lila and Cooper’s bow cases and leaned them against the barn wall near where he set his own equipment up.  Lila’s was blue and Cooper’s was a deep forest green. Clint lost a moment remembering taking each of them to the nearby hunting store to buy their first sets.

He shook himself out of his head and planted himself on the range, the targets too close to be much of a challenge for him, but he held onto hope, something else he had a lot of practice with. He drew and shot, over and over until he started to sweat, until he’d gone through the quiver twice. He thought about packing up and going to see what was going on at the house, but the thought filled his belly with ice, so he lined up again.

A few arrows into this set, he felt the eyes of his children watching. He paused a moment longer than usual, and then turned his aim to a fresh target and drew. When the quiver was empty, he’d used four targets to spell out ‘I luv C & L,’ and when he was finished he turned to see Lila biting her lip and staring at the targets and Cooper staring for a moment and then looking over at his bow case. He tugged Lila’s sleeve and nodded at the cases, and both kids headed over and got their equipment together.

Clint wordlessly handed them each a fistful of arrows when they were set, and they tossed them on the ground behind their spots and lined their first one up. Clint watched as they shot for a few minutes, and he wandered over to the fence and climbed up to sit. Watching his kids shoot sent little firecrackers of pride through his body every time they hit the target. Cooper and Lila had both been shooting long enough that their arrows rarely hit outside the second circle, and today was no different.  

He had no idea what they’d do when they were done, but he let them shoot and not talk, and he sat and didn’t talk and tried very hard to stay calm. Lila’s words from the day before burned in his ear every few minutes, but he caught her look over at him when he complimented her on a shot, and the usual gleam in her eye at his pride flashed for a moment. Cooper just shot and shot and shot.

They finally tired, and Clint watched as they carefully broke down their bows, cleaned up their arrows and put them back in the quiver, and followed every rule for the range that Clint had ever set down. When they were done, they sat down on the ground near Clint’s feet, and he climbed down off the fence and settled in with them. He let the smell of the farm, the fresh green grass and the straw and the old wood from the barn, waft through him and calm him, and he placed a hand on each of his kids’ thigh before he spoke.

“I told you when I left that I had to go because Wanda and Steve needed my help. I told you that things were happening to my friends that I couldn’t stand by and let happen. You don’t have to be happy about it, but do you understand why I went?” he asked.

Cooper, with his dark hair falling into his face a little and his brown eyes so much like his mother’s, met Clint’s gaze and nodded. “But you told us before that you were done. That you wouldn’t.”

Clint marveled at how his voice was still changing, still settling into its fourteen-going-on-fifteen man in a child’s body voice, how it was starting to remind Clint of Barney’s voice, quiet and steely and strong. He looked out at the farm and said, “I know. And as you mom has reminded me, promises like that are wrong to make. A better thing to say would have been that I’d stay unless there was an emergency. That I’d try to be the dad who’s around. That all I could do is my best.”

Lila let out a huff and when Clint glanced over at her, she rolled her eyes, those eyes that were like looking in a mirror for him. “That’s not a promise,” she said. “We want you here.”

Clint felt his heart leap a little. “Still?” he said, and maybe it was insecure, maybe he needed to hear it to cancel out the small, eight-year-old voice from his own past.

She looked at him, a little confused, and then frowned. “I was just mad. I am just mad. Of course we want you here. You’re our dad.”

Cooper looked at Clint like he was seeing something for the first time, and Clint was reminded of how much he loved his kids getting older. They were much smarter and more aware now that they were teenagers. “We want you here, dad,” he said, and then he looked at the ground. “We were just really, really angry.” He looked at Lila and she gave him a little nod of encouragement, so he looked back at Clint. “We were afraid.”

Lila took over, the way she sometimes did when she and Cooper were trying to explain something to their parents. “The thing we hated most about when you were working for SHIELD all the time was when you’d get hurt. There was that one time when mom said you almost died and then you were hurt for months after.”

Clint sighed and remembered the aftermath of Mumbai with a shudder.

“We were afraid if you were fighting with Steve and Wanda again you’d die,” Cooper whispered.

Clint reached over and wiped the tear that had escaped down Cooper’s cheek with his thumb. He stared at the wet spot on his finger for a moment and then closed his eyes.

Lila said, “I don’t want you to die. I want you to be here, with us.” She paused and looked over at Cooper again. “Even if you have to say no to your team. We need you more than they do,” she added matter-of-factly.

Clint chuckled. “Well, my team might not need me as much as you three do,” he said, “But what we do helps a lot of people who can’t help themselves sometimes.”

“I want you here,” Cooper said. Lila nodded, too.

Clint sighed and pulled both of them closer, so they were pressed to his side. “I want me here, too. But I’m not going to promise that I won’t help the other people I love, if they really need it, sometimes too. I’ll keep leaving as a last resort, but I can’t promise I’ll never have to leave. I just can’t.”

They nodded and leaned against him, and the three of them sat like that until Laura called them in to finish homework and eat dinner. The talk around the table was lively again, and Clint quizzed his kids and wife on every month he’d been gone until the food got cold and Nate got too squirmy to sit still.  

After dinner, he built a fire in the fire pit they had out front, and he and Laura sipped a beer while the kids roasted marshmallows. He volunteered to put Nate to bed, and relished every second of the splashy bath time, the millionth read-through of “Where the Wild Things Are,” and the quiet squeak of the rocking chair while Nate drank a warm cup of milk and dozed off in Clint’s arms.

When Nate was asleep, Clint went back out to the fire and pulled Lila into his lap and she let him wrap his arms around her waist and rest his chin on her shoulder while Cooper told funny stories from last year’s baseball season that Clint had missed. When they finally got the big kids to go to bed, Clint stood in their doorway and watched them sleep for a few minutes. Watching his kids sleep was the most relaxing, contentment-filled activity he knew since he’d become a parent, and he let it calm his last nerves tonight.

When he felt like he’d drunk his fill of the sight of his content, sleeping kids, he went to his own bedroom, where Laura was waiting, reading a book and wearing a purple tank top. He stripped down again, brushed his teeth, and crawled into bed. He pulled her close and stared at her deep brown eyes, her eyelashes as they brushed against her cheek, at her mouth that always seemed perfect to him. He leaned in and kissed her, slow and wet, and he felt her shift against him, pressing her soft shirt against his bare chest.

They both smelled like the smoke from the fire, and he felt her soft breath in his mouth.

She pushed him onto his back and her eyes lit up in a smile, and he memorized the crinkle of her cheek and the whiteness of her teeth, and he pressed himself up against her, feeling electricity through his whole body at the touch. He wanted to feel her wrapped around him and wanted to make her feel everything he could give her tonight. He moved to flip her onto her back and strip her clothes, but she pressed his arms down and shook her head, her grin turning sharp.

“No. You stay right there tonight, Clint,” she said, and he swallowed and clenched his thighs around her legs, feeling his cock harden under her. Her smile widened and she leaned close and breathed out, across his ear, “This is my reward.”

He gripped her waist and nodded, and said, “You’ve been so patient. I’m so grateful you’ve been patient.”

Laura leaned down and pressed his arms over his head and everywhere her hands were on him lit him up like a Christmas light, little pulses of bright color showering his skin. When his hands were above his head, she said, “Stay still,” and then slowly pulled her tank top off and threw it aside. She leaned over and let her breasts brush his chest and he closed his eyes in ecstasy. He felt her wiggle out of her shorts, and then rise a little onto her knees. He opened his eyes and his breath sped up and he couldn’t help pulling his arms down and wrapping his hands around her ribcage, caressing with his thumbs and moving his hands with her as she pulled his shorts off and stared hungrily at his whole body.

He saw her close her eyes for a moment and then she opened them again and they were glistening with unshed tears.

He pulled her back down on top of him and she straightened out so that she was just an inch above him, letting his cock brush her opening, just a touch. He clamped his teeth together to keep from arching into her right then, and felt his wet tip dampen her hair. It felt divine, and she must have read it on his face, because she did it again, brushing her hair over his leaking cock, and this time her eyes closed for a moment, and she leaned down and kissed him, open-mouthed and hot, and he lost himself in her tongue and teeth and cheeks for a moment.

She pulled back and her smile was broad and she was breathing hard, like she was seeing him for the first time since he got home.

“Laura,” he said, and his voice was wrecked, so he swallowed and tried again. “Laura, pl  -“ he started, but she cut him off with another kiss, and this time she lowered herself onto him and the world went away for a moment before he pressed her lips harder against his and ran his tongue over her teeth, letting the sensation fill his mouth. He reached down while they were kissing, and found her clit with his fingers as he pressed deeper into her.

She pulled back from the kiss with a yelp, and then drew a shaky breath as he fingered her and pressed into her with a rhythmic thrust, letting her wet warmth wrap his cock in shimmering sensation. He watched her face as he worked, and tears of his own inched down his cheeks as he saw her lose herself in him and in this moment.

She came with a cry and she clenched around him, making him speed up his thrusts. His body broke out in sweat as he lost track of the room around him and all he could feel was her, this woman who loved him steadfast and sure, and all he could see when he opened his eyes were her dark eyes, watching him as she shuddered around him, and he shook apart, sensation ripping him into multicolored pieces of adoration, lust, want, and love.

When his breathing slowed and her own tremors calmed, she pulled off of him and moved to his side, and he felt cold and suddenly frightened. His voice was gravelly, but he choked out, “Wait, stay, please,” and the irony of his plea was lost on neither of them. She smiled gently and pulled the bed covers up around them, and curled onto his chest, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping one arm around his waist.

“I’m not going anywhere, Clint, I promise,” she whispered. “I promise,” she repeated.

And he knew that it was a promise she could keep, one she _would_ keep, and he knew that promise would save them both, would save all of them, forever. He was home, and she would stay, and she would anchor all of them here, under this gabled roof in a field of hay and swaying grass, and they would be a family again, filled with laughter and love, and despite everything the outside world would throw at them, they would stay strong, for each other.


End file.
